Max's eyes grew wide. You would have thought David had presented him with a briefcase of gold and not some random seventeen-year-old girl that he found on the street. You considered stepping up to greet him, but the thought vanished almost as quickly as it came to mind.
You didn't have to turn around to know that David had a fresh smirk painted over his face. He used his gloved hand to pet back your hair possessively. "Go pick out a movie, (Y/N)," he said, effectively dismissing you.
He said your name just loud enough that anyone in the store could have heard him. Especially Max, who was still standing right there and blinking down at you with disbelief. Marko dragged you away from the others and you didn't think to stop him. There was bad energy pulsing between Max and David. You would definitely be gossiping about tonight with Mrs. Emerson tomorrow.
Hey Lucy, did you know our boyfriends are fighting? How funny is that?
"C'mon, horror movies this way," Marko snickered, guiding you toward a rack of VHS tapes in the darkest, furthest corner of the store.
You pretended to gag. "Nuh-uh. Dirty Dancing or bust."
It was a full minute or two before Max snapped his gaze away from your retreating figure. David watched him with a disinterested, self-satisfied squint. He, Dwayne, and Paul took up the entire entryway, like bodyguards preventing anyone else from stepping foot into the store.
Although that was basically their sole purpose at that point.
Max leaned over the counter with something resembling a smile and David realized that it was the first time in the last seventeen years that he wasn't sneering at him.
"That's truly her, isn't it?" He asked breathlessly.
Paul scoffed behind him and David chose to ignore it, nodding instead. "She's the real deal."
As if he would deliver anything else. David was always the soldier. Always carrying out demands just as strictly as they were issued.
"God," Max laughed, but there was no humor in it. "She's the spitting image of her mother."
Dwayne and Paul soured at the mention of Maria, but neither of them dared to say anything about it. Thankfully, Max was eager to fill the hollow silence. "How long have you known?"
"Star found her on Friday. We got her to the cave by Saturday," David spoke slowly, peering over the tops of the aisles to make sure Marko was keeping you well distracted.
"And her progress? Has she taken to the transformation?" Max asked with little regard for volume. He was too eager. David debated silencing him.
"Not yet," he admitted begrudgingly. He hated not meeting Max's expectations, even the smallest ones. "We're still working out one of the obstacles."
And the obstacle's name was Michael Emerson.
He was still kicking himself for letting that pathetic worm take the bottle from his hands that night, letting him raise it to his lips and drink. He'd spent years perfecting that shit just for you. Now it was tainted with mortal hands. The same mortal hands that were now conveniently immortal so long as everything went according to the newly revised plan.
"Time is running out," Max cleared his throat, straightening his already rigid posture. He didn't even try to mask his disappointment, not like any of them expected him to. "If she hasn't changed by her eighteenth year, she forfeits all power."
Now David was getting frustrated. "I am aware of what's at stake here, Max," he snarled through gritted teeth.
"Good."
An airy laugh echoed through the empty store and everyone's heads turned to watch Marko's head bob over the top of the aisle as he wrestled you for a VHS case.
"How about the Texas Chainsaw Massacre?"
"Marko, so help me God if we walk out of here without a Patrick Swayze movie I'm going home."
The corner of David's lip twitched upward at your playful threat. As much as he shuddered to think of it, you were exactly like Maria. He realized that now with Max standing in front of him with a stern fist balled on the countertop.
"This whole time," he shook his head, seething his words. "I can't believe she's been so close this whole time."
"The old man kept a ward on the house," Paul piped in. "Taught her to renforce it too. If he didn't give her that ring we still wouldn't know where she was."
Max's eyes narrowed. "And you watch her?"
Stupid question. You were here with them now, weren't you? "From sunset to sunrise, just like you asked."
It was Dwayne who answered this time. The longer they had you there, the tenser the air felt circulating between them.
"Good," Max sighed. If David hadn't known any better, he would have thought he sounded relieved. "I can't bear to imagine something happening to her."
So much more could have been said on this, but you eventually returned to the front of the store with a stack of tapes piled high in your arms. And wouldn't you know it, Dirty Dancing was sitting right on the very top.
Dwayne shot Marko a sideways glance and he just shrugged with a lax smile. "What? Like you would say no to her?"
You brushed past the boys to set the tapes on the counter, trying to ignore the intrusive stare that the man behind it was eyeing you with. If you thought to peer a little closer, you would have noticed that he was holding his breath.
"It's...on the house," he said a little too rushed. You blinked up at him in confusion. Did he know who you were? Had you met sometime long before he and Lucy were an item? It hurt to call on those memories.
"Oh no, I have money," you insisted, reaching into the back pocket of your shorts for the crumpled up bills you were sure you had leftover from Mr. E's monthly allowance. You figured he'd stop giving you any at all if he found out what you were actually spending it on.
"I insist," Max offered you that classic service industry smile. "These boys are good friends of mine and Lucy gushes about you almost nonstop."
It occurred to you that you should have probably questioned his unwavering kindness, but you weren't about to deny free movies. When you reached up to pull the stack back into your arms, a low grumble filled the air and you froze.
Max chuckled and clicked his tongue, coaxing a large white dog to stand up from the floor beside his feet. "Oh, that's just Thorne saying hello. He's got a good eye for good people."
"Hi Thorne," you cooed, melting instantly at the sight of the dog. He was really sweet-looking. Much more docile than Cujo. "I've got a dog just like him at home."
"I know."
You felt one of your eyebrows quirk at his response. Max stumbled over his words, awkwardly pushing his horn-rimmed glasses back over the bridge of his nose. "Lucy's told me, I mean. As I said, I think you're her favorite person in that entire house."
"Oh...that's sweet," you feigned a polite smile. Free movies, you reminded yourself. You can be nice for the sake of free movies. You continued to scratch Thorne behind the ears—noticing how he whined and instantly leaned into your touch—until Paul took the tapes from the counter and began leading you back toward the door.
And although you wanted to pretend you hadn't, you couldn't help but notice the knowing look that David shared with the shop owner on his way out.
It was safe to say you would never step foot into the video store ever again. Not willingly, anyway.
"Ready to go, princess?" David took his usual place at your side as you approached the bikes. You prepared yourself for the long debate over who got the privilege of seating you on the back of their motorcycle. "Mhm," you nodded, not saying anything about the protective hand he draped over your shoulder.
The next few minutes were a blur. There was an argument like there always was, but it must've been a short one because the next thing you knew your arms were secured around David's waist as he revved the engine of his bike.
One of the boys drove off—you couldn't tell exactly who it was in the dark—and then another. David was about to tag behind them when you heard a distant voice shouting behind you.
"(Y/N)! Hey, wait!"
You spun around as far as your position would allow. Emerging from the darkened boardwalk were Sam, Alan, and Edgar. They looked terrified as if they knew something that you didn't. It made you anxious.
"You can't go with them, (Y/N)!" Sam cried, waving his comic book around. "The book says–"
"-She's a little preoccupied, short-stack," David cut in, revving his engine to block out whatever Sam said next.
"I'm alright, Sammy," you mumbled. That fuzzy feeling came over you again and you had to focus all of your energy on clinging to the fabric of David's tailcoat. "I'll be home later, I promise. You can leave."
"No! You don't understand—!"
You never figured out what Sam was trying to tell you before the bike soared off of the boardwalk and into the night. You clutched tighter around David's waist; feeling his chuckle reverberate through his chest. You felt safe there. Like every last piece had fallen perfectly into place.
You spent the entire ride back to the cave convincing yourself that Sam was alright, albeit a tad bit paranoid. He was fine. He had the Frog Brothers. And worst-case scenario, he had Michael.
Little did you know that it wasn't Sam who would be in need of help that night.
(A/N: I....yeah. I don't know how I feel about this chapter. The POV is a little confusing. If it's not already obvious, David is using his powers on you. Like to an unhealthy extent. This is like the last normal chapter before Shit Gets Real. Hope you enjoyed! Not thoroughly edited so you are more than welcome to call me out on any mistakes!!)